


words and shapes

by rozegold



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Grog's A Fan Of Strong Ladies, Keyleth's Definitely A Strong Lady, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9767636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rozegold/pseuds/rozegold
Summary: Grog isn't very good with words, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to make his feelings known.





	

**Author's Note:**

> its time to start supplying rarepair smut that nobody asked for lmao

Grog isn’t very good with words.

Watching Keyleth fight is… well, it’s hot. She’s always wreathed in sparks of magic and mist, and when she’s not she’s usually an elemental or some form of beast. He’s not even sure if he has the words to describe any of what he feels when he catches her through the bloodlust and the rage, a fiery beacon of power in the midst of it all. Watching her explode an enemy with a single wave of her hand and a ringing chant of magic?

Hot.

Grog isn’t very good with words, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to make his feelings known. In fact, there’s one way that Grog knows how to make his feelings very clear.

So that’s how Keyleth ends up on her back on the floor of the training room, her circlet set off to the side and her legs thrown up over his shoulders as he kisses the inside of her thigh. One of her hands lays across her own breast, gently kneading through the fabric of her dress, the skirts pushed up to her stomach and her leggings and underthings discarded next to her circlet.

He runs the flat of his tongue up the length of her and she whines, her thighs trembling. Shifting his grip on her slightly, he lets his tongue dip down between her wet folds and lick wet stripes through them until she’s wriggling beneath him. She mumbles something incoherent, her eyes blown wide as she cranes her head to watch him please her.

Grog knows a couple things about pleasing ladies - in fact, he’d like to think he knows a lot of things, _easily_ more than five - and he knows what Keyleth likes, so together he’s _pretty much_ an unstoppable ladykiller when it comes to taking care of the druid. He flicks at her clit with the tip of his tongue and she gasps.

So, Grog knows the trick about tracing letters on a lady to make them come. The problem is, he isn’t all that great with letters (see: him not being all the good with words). Luckily for him, Grog knows shapes, and from the way Keyleth wiggles and moans, she likes shapes too. Tracing out stars around her clit seems to get her off especially hard.

“Oh - oh, _fuck_ ,” Keyleth slurs as he fucks her with his tongue, reaching deep inside of her with every thrust. He hooks an arm around her thigh and reaches down to find her clit, and when his thumb presses down on it she keens, her hips jolting up so she’s grinding against both his tongue and fingers at the same time.

He keeps his pace with his tongue, flicking his eyes up to watch her uneven breathing and wide eyes as he helps her towards what she wants. Grog moves her clit between his forefinger and thumb, earning a sweet moan from her. He keeps his pressure light, but she bucks up against his touch, demanding more. He can’t help but grin against her heat. Keyleth is not delicate. He’s known that since the first time he saw her fight. That follows her into bed - or the training room floor, as it is - and she can take a lot more than she lets on. (Grog has a lot to give).

She rolls her hips up against him as words spill out from between her pink lips, “I’m gonna - _fuck_ \- I think I’m gonna -”

He wordlessly tilts her hips so he has a better angle, pushing his tongue deeper into her cunt and working his fingers against her bundle of nerves until she whines and her thighs clench around his head in a way that’s almost painfully tight - it’s moments like these where it’s impossible for him to forget the strength she hides so well, the current of power coursing under her skin that even she seems to forget about - and that only makes him work against her harder and faster as she squeezes him and bucks up against his mouth, riding out the crashing waves of her orgasm on his tongue.

When her hips finally stop their erratic rolling, she falls almost limp against the floor, boneless in her pleasure. He slowly lowers her legs off of his shoulders and sets them down nicely.

Grog wipes her slick from his face and beard on his arm, looking up at the panting half-elf still splayed out before him. “Uh, Keyleth?”

“Yes?” she responds breathily, almost dazed.

“That stuff you did in the fight earlier?” He gives her an unsure grin. “Fuckin’ hot.”

Keyleth giggles, and he echoes her with a deeper laugh of his own.  



End file.
